


Respectability Is For The Weak

by grimcognito



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:03:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3269225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimcognito/pseuds/grimcognito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pure fluff of the Bagginshield variety, a collection of short stories and drabbles that don't fit into any larger fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respectability Is For The Weak

"Gentler, gentler! It's kneading, not beating, you don't need to prove yourself to the dough, Thorin!"

Thorin sighed and rolled his gaze upward and wording a silent _sweet Mahal_ as Bilbo nudged his hands away from the dough for the third time in nearly as many minutes. Maker save him from fussy hobbits and their fussy breads. "I was being gentle! Perhaps if you let me actually complete my task you'd see."

Biblo eye him over his shoulder with an amused huff and a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps if I wanted my bread to require the same amount of chewing as a piece of leather. Look,  push with the heels of your palms, then fold and repeat. No need to go smashing it about." His smaller hands moved quickly, working the dough with deft motions and Thorin was loathe to admit he did seem to have a much lighter touch than Thorin's own.

It was clear Biblo wasn't about to relinquish his spot, and by now the dough was nearly ready for a second rise, so Thorin just shook his head and got his revenge by settling floury hands on Bilbo's hips as he watched over his shoulder. He smiled when Bilbo began to hum, a tune Thorin had taught him on their travels, and wondered at this peace he felt here. Somehow this cozy little Hobbit house had become more of a home than even Erebor. Those great halls had been wondrous as ever, the stone thrumming with life and beauty, a whole kingdom that looked to him as leader, and yet he was content here with the very same fussy hobbit that had no qualms about slapping his hands away from the soup pot.

"Here, I'll divide the dough and you can shape the rolls, I know you're decent at that bit at least." Bilbo interrupted his thoughts and Thorin nipped his ear gently in retaliation as he stepped to the side to do as told.

"Not two days past, I made a pendant of star flowers detailed enough to set in a vase and you doubt my ability to shape dinner rolls."

Bilbo looked disapproving, but the crinkle around his eyes gave away his amusement even if he managed to hold back a smile. "And you'll do well to remember this is a kitchen, not a forge."

Thorin smiled, shaking his head as he shaped the dough with quick circular motions under his palms. "As you say, ghivashel, I cede to your expertise in this. You are clearly a master of this craft."

Bilbo grinned and bumped their shoulders together as he looked up at him, a single braid swinging behind his ear, a silver bead catching the light. "No need to sound as if that admission was pried from you forcibly, my dear."

"Perhaps if you looked a little less smug about it." Thorin shot back, dropping the prepared rolls carefully on the floured cloth where they would sit until they were ready for baking. Beside him, Bilbo pretended to look scandalized.

"Smug? I hardly think so! Perhaps a bit of well-placed pride, considering I've finally broken you of the habit of making food fit for a ten-day trek into the mountains, but smug? Oh no, that's wouldn't be respectable at all."

Thorin set the last roll down and turned to Bilbo with a smirk. "Bilbo Baggins, you are many wondrous things, but I do believe it has been a long time since you were anything resembling respectable."

Bilbo tilted his head back and laughed, a bright sound that echoed through their home, the sound of it familiar and dear. "I'll have you know I was once a most respectable hobbit! Then this rowdy bunch of Dwarves stumbled through my door and insisted on filling my head with thoughts of adventure."

"Perhaps, but it was you who came running after us, as I recall."

Bilbo's grin gentled to a smile and Thorin reached out to him but Bilbo suddenly danced out of the way, eyes wide. "Thorin! Have you been touching me with those flour-covered hands!?"  
  
Thorin looked at his, indeed quite well-dusted, hands and grinned. Biblo saw the mischeif in his face a second too late and Thorin caught him up, shrieking and indignant and yet still laughing just as Thorin pulled him in for a kiss or three. "Well now we're both floury, so it shouldn't be a problem."  
  
Bilbo pointed a finger at him as if to scold, but his shoulders were shaking with amusement and the effect was ruined by the fact that his face was pressed against Thorin's neck where he could feel Biblo smiling. "You are a terrible influence."

Thorin shrugged and kissed the side of Biblo's head, nuzzling the soft curls. "That's alright, I never had much care for respectability anyway."

**Author's Note:**

> Have a prompt for me? I'm always happy to hear headcanons and write more cute ideas for these two~ Come by my tumblr (paper-kraken.tumblr.com) and say hi!


End file.
